Vitium
by AsianVoodoo
Summary: He wanted freedom, instead he got a metal prison and the constant reminder of his mistake. AU.
1. Prologue

_The rush of the wind._

The blaring of an alarm.

_Whipping at his face, swirling pale hair in his face as he sprinted down the street. His arms spread wide, bright smile plastered on his lips, letting himself feel the thrill of running full speed downhill._

Time to wake up. The alarm is going off. He slams his hand onto the button, silencing the deafening sound. He doesn't want to move, wants to stay in the warmth of his blankets. He groans into his pillow, rolling onto his back—pale steel blue eyes blink open, examining the high ceiling. Time to face it.

_The end of the hill is approaching. The pathway of trees is coming to an end. He wants it to continue on, he wants to keep running. To continue feeling the rush, the freedom of it. But all good things must come to an end._

_Just a bit longer, he thinks. _

_Stop right before the curb. So he keeps running, full speed—no stopping, no slowing. Keeps running, keeps feeling the wind, the rush. And then he meets the edge of the curb._

_He goes to stop, but he can't. Too much momentum. He trips into the street._

He rips the blankets from his figure, sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He squints around his room, hands tugging at the edge of his too-large shirt absentmindedly. Where's that blasted chair?

He spots it, beside his bed as it should be.

He reached over, grabbing onto one of the metal arms and tugging it over. The brakes are on, it makes it difficult, the rubber makes an uncomfortable sound against the wood. He grimaces, scooting his ass towards the end of the bed. He moves his hands from the chair to his legs, tugging them to follow with the rest of him, letting them fall off the edge of the bed.

A pain, every morning—but he'll deal.

He pushes himself off of the bed, practically flopping into his chair with a grunt. He leans to the side, tugging the brake off of one wheel, repeats it with the second.

Morning routine, nothing out of the ordinary.

His hands go to the wheels, he rolls himself toward the door. It's open, he forgot to close it last night. Or maybe the dog pushed it open and left before he woke up. Both are possible. He disregards it, rolls out the room and down the hall.

His room used to be on the second floor of the house. Keyword "used to". He couldn't get up there anymore—without a lot of effort, at least. Too much effort, he never went up there.

He takes a moment to pause, scratch his head and yawn. His white hair is unruly and he combs it down with his fingers. Combs it over his left eye, over the large scar that went down the entire side of his face. Too big to hide it, too big to forget it. Just another reminder of his mistake.

As if the price of his legs wasn't reminder enough.

**R/N: It's been quite some time since I've posted anything and I apologize for that. It seems me "muse" has left me. I've been attempting to complete Euthanasia—but I will have to put that under hiatus until a later date. I will be updating that with more information on the subject.**

**But this story has nothing to do with Euthanasia. This is a new idea, **_**Vitium**_**. The idea kind of kicked me in the face while I was listening to "Sneakers" by the Yoo Do Hyun Band. I have no idea where, exactly, I want this to go. So I'm really making everything up as I ago as opposed to when I worked on **_**Euthanasia**_** and **_**Stages**_**.**

**I hope you'll all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed my others.**

**`Vincent.**


	2. Prologue II

_He can't breathe_.

He sighs through his nose.

_The moment is crushing on him. Forcing itself into his mind. He'll never forget it. He'll never be able to no matter how much he wants. His eyes are wide, he wants to scream, he wants to cry._

His eyes are closed, his hands move out in front of him. He's trying to be calm, center himself—whatever bullshit this is supposed to bring. He moves one foot back, assuming a wide stance, his hands are in a defensive position.

_He can hear the screams. He can hear the death. He never even thought death could have a sound. But he hears it now. The slicing, the bodies dropping. He can hear it all like it's all being individually blasted directly into his ears._

_And he just wants it to stop._

_Just stop, stop, stop._

_Because those are his parents. That's his best friend._

_Just please, God, please, make it stop. He'll do anything just make it stop._

_He wants to run, wants to get as far away as possible. But he's hiding, hiding just like he'd been told. Huddled in the pantry behind the jugs of water, curled into a ball and trying so hard to be silent. Just keep silent, he could do that. He could do that—he did it all the time why was it so hard now?_

_The silence was the worst of all._

He stays in that position for a long moment. Just relaxing himself, breathing through his nose. Trying not to focus on anything. Nothing, nothing at all. Focus on nothing.

And then he's twisting his body, leg swinging around to aim a high kick with as much force as he can muster. The kick knocks into a thick block of wood, snapping it. He can hear it splinter and break, but he doesn't open his eyes until he's facing forward again, foot back on the ground.

Deep blue assesses the damage and he makes a quiet noise of approval. The floor is covered in his destruction, multiple blocks of wood scatter the floor. His legs are sore, as are his arms—but that's how he always does it.

He needs some kind of outlet.

He raises his hand, tugging at the hairtie keeping up the long dark ponytail. He runs his hand through his hair, pulling it over one shoulder as he exits the large room and enters the hall. The house is quiet, there's no one home. There's never anyone home in the morning—so he makes his way to his bedroom.

He needs a shower, he'd been doing nothing but… well, that, for hours.

His ears are ringing, he hates that sound.

He hates how easily that ringing turns to the memory of screaming.

**A/N: You get two in one day.**

**These are two out of three prologues for Vitium. The third is going to be for Lavi.**

**Three main characters, three prologues.**

**I predict that after that first chapter you're one of three things: incredibly unhappy with me, intrigued, or closed this thing faster than a motherfucker. I also already got the question of **_**What have I done to Allen?**_

**I don't like conventional fanfiction. I don't like writing it, I don't.**

_**Stages**_** was as close as you will ever get from me in a multi-chapter, I swear to you. Unless it's a oneshot, I will have as much fun as I want to have with it. **_**Euthanasia**_** made that clear when I fucked everyone up from hell to high water.**

**I like messing things up. Mainly because fanfiction was never my main source of writing. I like writing original things with original characters. Fanfiction just works my muse up—so I tweak it to make it as original as I can get it without completely and totally making it unrecognizable from the canon.**

**Yes, I paralyzed Allen Walker. No, he's not supposed to be paralyzed. If you don't like this, then jump off the wagon right now because he's not going to magically become "unparalyzed." {I haven't gotten a complaint about it yet, but I'm preparing myself for it}**

**I thought this would be interesting, so I am rolling with it.**

**This is going to continue to be unconventional. And I can assure you that Allen Walker in a wheelchair is not going to be the only thing that makes you question my mental stability—though it will mainly just be small things from here on out.**

_**Trust me**_**.**

**But if you think this is interesting at all, I urge you to continue reading.**

**`Vincent**


	3. Prologue III

_A torn household_.

The glaring sun was the first this to greet him.

_They all told him it wasn't his fault. Over and over—it was never his fault. He didn't understand, what wasn't his fault? Why did his grandfather take him away?_

A grin spreads across his lips as he stretches his arms above his head. It's warm this morning, already a good sign. He loves sunny days like this, favourite type of weather. He pushes the window open, leaning against the window sill and shoving his head out.

_Was it because of that?_

_But father didn't mean that. It was an accident—didn't anyone know that?_

_Father didn't mean to hurt his eye. It wasn't mother's fault either. It was nothing more than an accident. He'd made a mistake, father got angry and made a mistake too. Everyone made mistakes, and sometimes people did them on accident._

_He wasn't mad at his father. So why was everyone else so mad?_

_Why did mother look at him like that?_

_His eye was covered up—like a band aid! Everything was good as new, it would get all better soon and he'd have two eyes again, right?_

_So why did grandfather take him away? Far away, too._

_Didn't grandfather know he wanted to see his parents again? They were probably worried about him, just disappearing like that. Why did grandfather do that?_

_What?_

_Why did he have to go by a different name now? That was really dumb. How were mother and father supposed to find him if he had a different name? Was grandfather mad at them too?_

_It was just a mistake._

He ducked back into his room, hand resting on his lip and he lifted the other to scratch at unruly ginger hair. His fingers drifted over black material, familiar too him. No big deal, he was used to it by now.

He let out a sigh and moved across his room to his closet. The door was left open and clothes spilled out in an unorganized mess. His grandfather'd yelled at him to get that shit under control but—bah. Like the man had room to talk. What with the newspapers the old man kept strewn all around the house.

He leaned over, picking up whatever seemed like a good idea to wear. What? Not like he really cared.

He tugged his nightshirt over his head, throwing it off to some odd corner of his room—he'd get that later. He pulled another one over his head, dark green with half sleeves and a wide neck. It'd do. He did the same exchange with pants, buttoning up a pair of dark navy jeans.

Good to g—

Oh, wait.

He hummed as he walked over to his nightstand, grabbing the thick black bandana from the piece of furniture so he could tie it around his head. That solved the hair issue.

All good to go?

Just needed the chore of the bathroom now.

So he made his way out of his room and into the hall. He swung around in a sharp turn towards the bathroom, knocking into a precariously stacked mountain of newspapers. He cringed as he watched the tower fall over, scattering newspaper down the hall.

Oops.

Oh well.

Everyone made mistakes.

**A/N: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.**

**I really just wanted to get the prologues out of the way. And now with this one, I will be beginning the story. Given I figure out what the story is in the next week. I'm going to be spacing updates out as much as I can, but it won't be scheduled. I'm horrible at keeping schedule.**

**I've had questions on the pairing—no, it won't be OT3 [KandaxAllenxLavi]. There will be two main pairings, one of which is Yullen. The other includes Lavi, but I'm not disclosing that information.**

**Try as hard as you want to guess what it will be, but I guarantee to you that you will **_**never**_** get it. {If you do, then I congratulation your insane guessing skills—either that or you follow me on tumblr} No, I don't consider it to be "crack shipping" at all. It is a pairing that has a lot of thought and reasoning behind it and I have written it before but never published it here. I know people who support this pairing after I mentioned it—so I have confidence that it will not be completely shunned.**

**I hope that when I bring it in, it will at least catch some interest. I know not all will like it—but I swear to you it is not some strange "Oh my God why would you do that" pairing.**

**Also regarding the characters that will be in this—I will be including as many as I can. The main will be Allen, Kanda, and Lavi. There will be Exorcists and Noah and others as well.**


	4. Chapter 1

**[A/N] Oh wow, so fuck me, I suck. My writing muse just sort of dropped off the face of the fucking planet. I'm actually really, really sorry about that. I'm trying to pick up on all of the writing I left. Which means this, of course. But uhm.. Yeah. So, here's the first actual chapter.**

**Keep in mind the kids have known each other for a while, so they're going to interact accordingly. Some are closer to others, and not everyone knows everything about everyone. I'm trying to focus on... Well, you know what, I really don't know. God I was really hoping not to make this some sort of 'slice of life' anime thing, but it just might end up being that.**

**I'm still sorting things out though, so please don't abandon me just yet. I'll figure out the angle of this and try and get a plot soon enough, I promise. And if I seem like I am not coming back then feel free to harass me until I do because I really do hate leaving you hanging for a long period of time. [A/N]**

A deep sigh.

He's leaning with his elbows propped up on the desk. His pale fingers twirl the mechanical pencil around as he stares down at the sheet of paper in front of him. It's a mess of numbers and shapes that he can't quite discern in his mind- he's never been all too strong in the mathematics field, so this is taking his head for a spin. Much like his fingers to the pencil.

Or not, the pencil flies from his hand, skidding across the table to land on the floor.

For a moment he stares at the edge of the table, as if he's attempting to will the pencil to be there.

No such luck.

With a groan, his hands go to the wheels of his chair, maneuvering himself around the table to retrieve the fallen object. He stops beside it and leans over the arm of the chair and reaches for the pencil- only to find it gone in a flash.

"Lookin' for this?"

He jumps, whipping his head to discover the source of the familiar voice. A wide grin and a head of vibrant hair greet him. He smiles, a quiet laugh escaping him as he reaches up and tugs the pencil from the other.

"Hiding in the library, are we, Allen?" The taller boy asks, hands shoving in his pockets.

Allen shrugs his shoulders. He decides to work on the new side of the table now as opposed to wheeling back around. He reached over the table to pull his papers around to him and a huff escapes him. "It's more quiet in here." He explains. "Though I was considering going to find you- I cannot for the life of me figure out the math."

"Yeah, yeah." The other mumbled, pulling a chair up next to the boy. "You know, maybe if you spent class paying attention instead of watching the Frigid Prince of Hell-Air, you'd know what to do." The comment was rewarded with a swift elbow to the side.

"Wow, rude." Lavi mumbles, rubbing at his side with a half-hearted glare towards the younger boy. "Do you want my help or not?"

"It's amazing you know what's going on with the fact that you're always staring out the window." Allen says, tapping his pencil against the table.

"The power of multi-tasking, my friend." The older teen responds with a grin. "Just because I don't look doesn't mean I don't listen."

"Yeah, whatever" The snowy-haired boy mutters, eyes focusing on his papers in front of him.

"So..." Lavi glanced at the other's homework. "What do you not understand?"

Allen was silent a moment, as if the question was one that required him to mull it over for a period of time. Long enough, that Lavi was wondering if the kid had heard him or not. When the ginger opened his mouth to ask again, the boy spoke. "What would you do if I said all of it?"

Lavi blinked, letting out a frustrated groan as he leaned back in his seat. "Man, are you serious?" He asked. "You're just as bad as Yuu."

"Is that an insult, Lavi?" The boy asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I understand it sometimes."

"Yeah, after I spend hours explaining it." The older one huffed. "Though in your defense, Yuu still doesn't understand it even after hours of explanation. Everything goes in one ear and out the other. Assuming it even goes in."

Allen snorted, resting his elbows on the table. "It's amazing he even got into high school." He muttered, propping his cheek in his hand. "I don't think I've ever met someone more stupid."

Lavi laughed, shaking his head at the snowy-haired teen and the frustrated look on his face.

"What's so funny?" Allen asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"You two really hate each other." The older boy said. "It's really sort of hilarious when you're watching from the outside."

"I still don't get how it's funny."

"You're like cats defending territory." He explained, hands moving in strange gestures to attempt to accompany his words. "Puffing up your fur and hissing and spitting and dancing around each other."

"I do not hiss." Allen... hissed, which only made Lavi laugh again, harder this time. The boy scowled, smacking the other's arm. "Oh, shut up."

"Can't help it, Allen." The ginger teen said with a grin, folding his arms behind his head.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" Allen asked, a frown painting his lips.

"Yeah, yeah." Lavi sighed. "Just not looking forward to giving you the entire math lesson we had to sit through once already."

"Sitting on the school's roof, isn't that a little cliche?"

He didn't bother glancing up at the girl. He snorted, legs stretched out in from of his, crossed at the ankles as he leaned against the railing. His hair was let down, pulled over one shoulder and spilling over his crossed arms.

"How did you even manage to unlock the roof latch?" Lenalee questioned as she pulled herself out of the open latch, shutting it behind her.

"Old man gave me the keys." He responded. "At least he's useful for something."

"How long have you been up here?" The girl asked, crossing the roof towards him. "Did you even attend last period class?"

He snorted, giving the girl a look that served as a clear answer.

She sighed, shaking her head at him. "How are you even passing all of your classes, Kanda?"

The Japanese teen shrugged at that. Honestly, it wasn't the first time he'd ever gotten that question. He often heard it from a certain irritating ginger-haired teenager and an even more irritating Moyashi. He was passing because he was, why did anyone even need to or want to know?"

"Honestly." Lenalee let out a huff, taking a seat next to the other against the railing. "I guess I shouldn't complain because you're passing, but still, you should actually try going to class."

"I go."

"When you feel like it." The girl pointed out, irritation setting in. "What in the world are you going to do after this year when we aren't in high school anymore, Kanda?"

He shrugged, completely disinterested in the conversation. Really, it was none of her business what he did, so why would he tell her? He wouldn't.

"Humor me, Kanda." Lenalee almost-whined. "You know I'm just worried, can't you at least try to have a conversation with me?"

"Tch." The Japanese teen scoffed, shutting his eyes. "There's no point in having this conversation." He said. "It's none of your business what I do."

The girl groaned in frustration, leaning back against the rail and bringing her knees up. She lifted a hand, lightly knocking her fist against his head. "Oh, come on, Kanda." She said. "You won't even tell me?"

"As I said already- and every time you've ever brought this up," He huffed. "It's none of your business."  
>"Fine." Lenalee huffed, deciding for a change of subject. "Who are you even hiding from up here?"<p>

"I'm not hiding from anyone." He responded, tone sounding mildly offended. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and let out a breath. "I just don't feel like dealing with anyone's bullshit right now is all."

"Any bullshit in particular you're trying to avoid?"

He shrugged, not giving any sort of definite answer.

"There is something, isn't there?" She questioned, cocking an eyebrow. Silence was her response and she let out a quiet sigh and took it for a yes. "Alright, what is it then?"

"I didn't say it was anything." Kanda muttered, though he knew it wouldn't be sufficient enough to convince the girl.

"Then why are you up here?" Lenalee tried, "Are you waiting for something or avoiding something?"

He was silent, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. "Leaving." He stated simply, shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned to do just as he'd said. He heard an irritated groan and there was a hand grasping at the hem of his shirt. "_What_."

"It's almost that day, isn't it?" The other asked, standing and clasping her hands behind her back. When she felt Kanda's glare and sighed, shaking her head. "I know, I know, it's taboo to bring it up. I just want to tell you to be careful."

"I'm always fucking careful." 

He was storming down the hall, a scowl prominent on his lips. He'd actually been in a peaceful mood before the roof, but leave it to someone else to completely fuck it up. Kanda's grip on the strap of his bag was so tight it was physically painful and his eyes glared holes into the linoleum.

He knew what day was soon, it didn't mean he wanted to be fucking reminded.

Jesus fuck, why couldn't she just leave it alone when it was clear he'd wanted her to? Fucking A.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

Yes, he liked that fucking word, god _fucking _damnit, he'd use it as fucking much as he fucking wanted fuck you, you fucking _fuck_.

And once more for f_ucking_ effect.

_Fuck_.

Well. Now that it was out of his fucking system.

Oh, whoops.

Kanda shoved the double doors of the school open so hard the door stops on the opposite side groaned in response, threatening to give way.

"Jesus Christ, don't kill anyone." An annoyingly familiar voice said from behind him.

Did I say the word fuck was out of his system? I lied.

_Fuck_.

"Leave me the fuck alone." Kanda hissed, not even bothering to look behind him before he stomped down the stairs.

Allen had to push through the doorway before the wooden slabs assaulted him and he let himself roll down the ramp beside the stairs. Specially put in just for him, well whoopie wasn't he special. "Did someone put acid in your fruit loops this morning or something." He asked sarcastically as he followed beside the older teen.

It wasn't really out of wanting conversation- the two lived in the same general direction, and after so many years of attending the same school, Allen had found it almost physically painful to go home in awkward and highly uncomfortable silence with Kanda.

Who was now staring at him like he was going to be his first victim. Well, the snowy-haired boy always knew Kanda would snap at some point. It was always just a matter of when.

"I was joking when I said not to kill anyone earlier." Allen said warily, "But now I'm afraid I have to be serious."

"Shut up." The Japanese teen hissed, venom clear in his words. He wasn't in the goddamned mood for the other's bullshit.

Oh-ho-kay then, obviously someone was legitimately pissed off. More so than normal- because the boy figured Kanda was generally pissed off... So this was something new. He looked up at the other as they made their way down the sidewalk from the school. Sure there were times when he'd seen the other genuinely upset, but this seemed... Genuinely murderous. He was curious- which wasn't unusual, though he generally tended to keep his curiosities about Kanda to himself. Asking too many questions often overloaded the Japanese teen and caused him to get angry... er. Not that he went out of his way to make the other happy- on the contrary, actually.

But he usually knew when to pick and choose his battles. He sensed this was one he definitely should not pick, but was that stopping him? Not really. The fact that Kanda was actually upset about something just sort of made him want to talk about it more. He wanted to pick at the other's brain a little bit and figure out what was so frustrating for him.

"DId you get into a fight or something?" Allen questioned. "I can't really think of anything else that would piss you off this badly."

Nope. No. Not happening. Kanda was not dealing with questions again. No. Screw that. He started walking faster than Allen was going. When the other spoke protest as he hit the end of the block, he scowled, crossing onto a street he _knew _the boy would not take because it had too many hills.

"Wow, okay, remind me never to give a shit again." Allen muttered under his breath as he watched the other storm away.


End file.
